Lyrics.. ﻿ Big Sean ft. EminemMake it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make itYou can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake itEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from 'em? No favorsClique too big, bread? Gotta break itCause these others lowkey with the snaking fakingEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from 'em?No favors, no favorsWhat I need? No favorsEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from 'em? No favors[Verse 1: Big Sean]I'm about getting the job done, boy up every nightI'm about rolling a seven, when I toss up the diceI'm about getting my logo off, flooded with iceI'm about taking a risk, that might fuck up your lifeTell 'em point and shoot like camera crewsIn front of cameras too (brrr)Damn, Sean, what happened to the humble attitude?I'm like "niggas took the flow but I'm still standing too"Thought I had the Midas touchAnd then I went platinum tooMother fuck all your comparisonsI've been talking to God like that's my therapistI'm African-American in AmericaI ain't inherit shit but a millionaire under 30So He must be hearing shitDon, don, don, life, I do this for the cribThe D to Flint who get sick with leadOthers get the hit with the laughFrom where they need a handoutBut they tell you put hands upOnly deals I have is from the Sam's ClubNow it's blue blood in my veinsSo you know where I came fromBorn in a world going where they told me I can't goIn my lane, though, I'm in the same boat as Usain BoltGet ahead by any means so the head's what I aim forWhen my grandma died, I realized I got an angelShow me everything's a blessing depending on the anglesLook, I am the anomaly, never needed favors or apologiesThat's my new lifetime policyWood grain steering wheel this bitch feel like a pirate shipHow many hot verses till you bitches start acknowledgingThe pictures we been painting, my niggaConnected to a higher powerHow I know? 'Cause I don't write this shit, I think it, my niggaLook, all I ever did was beat the oddsCause when you try to get even it just don't even outNever stopping like we hypnotizedWatch what we visualize on the rise, be the G.O.A.T.While we alive when we die, we gon' be the gods[Hook: Big Sean]Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make itYou can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake itEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from 'em? No favorsClique too big, bread? gotta break it'Cause these others lowkey with the snaking fakingEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from 'em?No favors, no favors[Verse 2: Eminem]If she was flavor I won't savorNo taste buds, hoe laterFuck you looking at, hater?I saw them eyes like an ass raperTry to copy my swag like a cheating classmateI'll be the last face you see before you passWhen you get your fucking ass graded like a math paperSo ahead of my time late means I'm early, my age is reversingI'm basically 30, amazingly sturdy, zany and wordyBrainy and nerdy, blatantly dirtyInsanely perverted, rapey and scurvyThey blame me for murdering Jamie Lee CurtisSaid I put her face in the furnace, beat her with a space heaterA piece furniture, egg beater, thermosIt may be disturbing, what I'm saying's cringe worthyBut I'm urinating on Fergie, call Shady number 81Surely I'm turning into the Aaron Hernandez of rapState of emergency, the planets having panic attacksBrady's returning, matter fact I may be deservingOf a Pat on the back like a Patriots jerseyInexplicable stomach growl from the pit of itLike a fucking Terrier hittin' itDespicable, dumb it down, ridiculousTongue is foul shoot off at the fucking mouthLike a missile, a thunder cloud100 pound pistol pull the trigger this gun will soundAnd you'll get a round like Digital UndergroundAnd fuck Ann Coulter with a Klan posterWith a lamp post, door handle shutterA damn bolt cutter, a sandal, a can opener, a candle rubberPiano, a flannel, sucker, some hand soap, butterA banjo and manhole coverHand over the mouth and nose smotherTrample ran over the tramp with the Land RoverThe band, the Lambo, Hummer and Road RunnerGo ham donut or go Rambo, gotta make an example of herThat's for Sandra Bland ho and PhilandoHannibal on the lamb, no wonder I am so stubbornI'm anti, can't no government handle a commandoYour man don't want it, Trump's a bitchI'll make his whole brand go under (yeah)And tell Dre I'm meeting him in L.A., white Bronco like ElwaySpeeding, I'm bout to run over a chick, Del Rey CD in?Females stay beatin 'em, bet you they'll lay bleedingAnd yell, "Wait!", pleading—but screaming is pointlessLike feeding Michel'le heliumLeaving them pale faced medium sized weltStraight treating 'em like a cell mateSee me I'm climbing hell's gateBitch, I'm like your problems: self-madeMeaning someone else's help ain't neededCause I'ma—[Hook: Big Sean]Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make itYou can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake itEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from em; no favorsClique too big, bread? gotta break it'Cause these others lowkey with the snaking fakingEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from 'em?No favors, no favorsWhat I need? No favorsEverything lined up for the takingAnd what I need from 'em? no favors[Outro](I know you feeling yourself right nowBut I'm not sure she's the oneI would call them in) – "Hey, I'm outside"What are you doing here?